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  The temperature in the room suddenly increased about twenty degrees. He didn’t mind being her focus, but he didn’t know what to do about it. If they weren’t in his office, he might find himself leaning in to kiss her.

  Yeah, and likely find himself slapped.

  Chapter Seven

  Eliam leaned back in the slick, black couch in the middle of his office while his cousin poured them drinks.

  “Little early to be drinking, isn’t it?” Eliam scrolled through the calendar on his phone to see which client his next scheduled conference call concerned. Ann had managed to coordinate either calls or face-to-face meetings with all of their big clients in the next couple of weeks.

  “We’re celebrating.” Bram offered Eliam a short glass containing a couple shots of whiskey and sat in the chair across from him. “Cheers to the new president of Prince Industries.” He held up his glass in tribute.

  Eliam smiled. “L’Chaim.”

  “To life.” Bram nodded. “Do you have big changes you’re rolling out now that you are finally successful?”

  “I will eventually, but first I want to make sure any bridges Franklin may have burned get fixed. We need to get back on track with clients, vendors, and our contracts.” Provided I’m alive long enough to have all these meetings.

  While Franklin had cocked up some things, all was not lost or in disrepair. The company was still operating in the black, and the forecast for the year looked promising. Eliam wanted to quickly fix the problems Franklin did cause and stop a couple of potential issues he’d noticed last night when he was looking at the records. As for the rest, there’d be time enough to steer his ship into a bright future.

  “Franklin sure cocked things up.” Bram sat back in the chair and crossed his ankle to his knee. “Why did your mom ever put him in charge?”

  They’d had this conversation before, and Eliam sure as hell didn’t feel like having it again. Bram needed to let it go—he was always the one bringing up the subject. And, truthfully, his mom had never said she hadn’t waited until he was done with college. He suspected it was due to Franklin being a slithering snake. During the time he’d spent time with his mom after her diagnosis, small details, such as questions about Franklin, hadn’t seemed so relevant. They’d focused on more uplifting topics like Eliam’s inability to settle down. He smiled to himself. She’d always wanted him to have his own family and legacy.

  “How’s Carmen doing?” Eliam sipped his whiskey. He’d met Carmen only a handful of times, and none of those times had it been a pleasant experience.

  “She’s okay. Up my ass about one thing or another lately.”

  Bram’s attitude shifted, but talk about his third wife usually brought out an edge. Bram floated through life, not taking much seriously, and he usually had a get-rich scheme waiting in the works—he’d met Carmen at a meeting for the latest pyramid “business” he was trying to start.

  “Guess that’s the chance you take when you get married.”

  “You’d think I’d have learned by now.” Bram finished off his whiskey. “That Winter seems pretty fiery. Something going on there?”

  “Nah, man. She’s just doing her job.” Even if there was something between them, he wouldn’t tell Bram. The man didn’t exactly give the best advice when it came to relationships.

  “She seemed pretty overprotective. Her and her henchmen.” Bram glanced at the doorway, no doubt remembering being sandwiched between two giant hulks.

  “She’s supposed to be.” Eliam squelched a smile. Winter was so entirely sexy when she was in lioness mode—now that fifteen minutes had passed and he wasn’t pissed, he could appreciate her tenacity. Although her tactics still left a little to be desired—he could do without being told what to do. “That’s why I hired her.”

  “Why do you need extra security, anyway? I thought that’s what Louis is for.”

  “Extra concerns. Franklin is being a prick.” To put it lightly.

  “The old man got you shaking in your loafers?” Bram’s smile was fuller on one side of his face.

  There was no laughter filling his lungs. “I think he’s trying to have me killed so he can take his job back.”

  “Whoa. Ain’t that some shit?” Bram shook his head and stood. “I better steer clear of you then.” He chuckled. “Let me know if I can help out. You need someone to bail you out of jail because you took matters into your own hands, you just let me know.” He set his empty glass under the bar.

  “Heh. Will do.” They’d scared up trouble when they were teenagers. It was nice to know Bram still had his back.

  Eliam set his unfinished whiskey behind the bar after Bram left and called up the contracts for the next client he was teleconferencing. Luckily, he’d forged good relationships as vice president with most of their customers, so making sure he kept their business with Prince Industries was just a matter of letting them know he cared and that their relationship was still important. When all of that was smoothed over and he was comfortable with the direction, he did indeed have plans for the company. Plans to take it to the next level—aka expansion.

  • • •

  Half a day later, Eliam finally managed some alone time in his office by telling the gang he had sensitive information to talk to his board about. Since he was staying with Winter now, holy hell on that fact, she was apparently his around-the-clock guard and the others on her team came and went throughout the day. Felix was a tank, Eddie looked like a hometown hero but deadlier, and the Noor and Roe she spoke about on the way to his office had yet to make an appearance—at this point he suspected he’d be able to pick them out of a crowd, too. Winter was surrounded by well-built, chisel-jawed men all day, and the realization stabbed him with a small dagger of jealousy. Only for a moment, but it was enough. He certainly had other things to worry more about today. Still, he glanced toward the door before fully shaking the jaw-clenching thought.

  He picked up his phone and dialed a number by heart.

  “Figure out you know nothing about running the company?” Franklin guffawed on the other end of the receiver. “You’re dumber than I gave you credit for. Figured that would take another day at least.”

  This had been a bad idea, and not well planned. What the hell was he going to say? Stop trying to kill me? Franklin would never admit to it and then he’d know Eliam was scared. That wasn’t going to happen. He raked his free hand through his hair and thought fast.

  “Oh good, so you’re still a bastard.”

  “I will return and you’ll be left with nothing.”

  “No, you won’t. No. Matter. What.” He should’ve decked the sonuvabitch yesterday. “There is nothing you can do to get your greedy hands on my company again. Nothing.” He hoped Franklin would get the hint. Hell, at this point Eliam should really draw up a will and leave the whole damn shipping company to Louis or Winter or freakin’ anyone else. Yeah, the board of directors might have something to say about that, but Eliam’s holdings in the company would have weight.

  You aren’t dying today, or soon, remember? A phrase he was sure he would be telling himself again.

  “We’ll see about that.” Franklin’s smugness never ceased to amaze.

  “Make sure you tell someone what you want done with your body . . .for when your plans blow up in your face.” Eliam’s knuckles turned white from gripping the receiver.

  “Is that an old Russian saying? Because I’d brush up on those if I were you.” Franklin disconnected.

  Russians. I knew it. The dumb asshole had gotten into some shady dealings with the Russian company that operated out of the medium-sized Port of Petropavlovsk-Kamchatskiy. Matvey Primack, of the Primack family, was not a man to be trifled with, and if Franklin set up a deal already, or if Matvey thought it was going to happen, Eliam had no clue how to get out of it. If the deal was aboveboard, there’d be no problem—it wasn’t. Eliam didn’t have to look into it more to know that, but he searched for the paperwork anyway. There had to be some form of legitima
te trail for both sides. Drugs, weapons, illegal products—Franklin could’ve agreed to anything to make a buck and no doubt line his own pockets.

  The stacks of paperwork on his desk, courtesy of Franklin, showed nothing with Matvey’s name or a company shipping from the P-K Port. The company name wouldn’t be important because those tended to change frequently with illegal deals.

  Now, did he have to tell Winter? There was a distinct possibility he could deal with this on his own and untangle Prince Industries without her knowing, so she could focus on the real, very funded, already-in-the-works assassination plan.

  Yeah, she didn’t need to know.

  • • •

  Winter waited in the lobby at Prince Industries. Eliam was supposed to be there, but he wasn’t. Where can he be? If another damn call was holding him up, he should’ve let her know so she didn’t start rallying the troops and doing a room-by-room sweep for danger. She cocked a hip and checked her own phone again. No news from Alex. Felix and Eddie were tracking down leads as to where Holland might be hiding and a couple of deals that might explain why others wanted Eliam out of the picture. If these didn’t pan out, they’d be back to square one, and there wasn’t much time left on her contract with Holland.

  The elevator doors opened and Eliam appeared with his tie still tight to his neck and his cuffs buttoned around his wrists. “I’ve got a stop to make.”

  “I already ran to the store for . . . ” Her voice trailed when he shook his head curtly.

  He pocketed one hand. “Quick business meeting. It’s on the way.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Then, yes, dinner would be great. Is this a heat-up situation or are you a cook?”

  “It’ll be homemade.” She couldn’t help herself—she loved cooking and rarely had the opportunity these days, and yes, maybe a part of her wanted to cook for Eliam. A small part of her. Like, barely any part. Mostly.

  They made it into her SUV and she headed out of the gated area.

  “Where is this business meeting?” Annoyance tugged at her gut. They hadn’t vetted another location today—he’d said all of his meetings would be at his office.

  “On the piers of the warehouse district.”

  “You should reschedule until tomorrow. That way, we can check this place out first.”

  “No can do.”

  Unbelievable. That was one of the worst locations he could’ve said—not only was it hard to secure because there were so many blind spots, but a lot of shady people did business down there. Great, Eliam really was one of those people who were too arrogant to protect their own ass. Tonight she wasn’t letting him off the hook. He would tell her more about his business and whatever he was keeping from her.

  “A client has an office down there.”

  Client. Right. Sure.

  “What is the meeting about?” All of the shady dealings you aren’t telling me about that are going to get you killed? If she was walking into a room full of people who wanted him dead, things were going to get nasty whether they made it out alive or not.

  “Business.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  They headed over to the piers in silence. It was bad enough she didn’t have backup, had no idea who he was meeting with, and hadn’t swept the place first. He’d probably try to go in alone—that wasn’t happening. Letting Eliam out of her sight wasn’t going to be a mistake she made. This whole idea had trouble stamped all over it, and the best she could do was try to mitigate the situation by keeping Eliam close.

  “I’ll just be a minute.” He reached for the door handle.

  She opened her door and he stopped, one foot on the ground.

  “You aren’t going in,” he said.

  Ever since they’d arrived at Prince Industries today, she’d witnessed his work persona—the hard-edged, no-nonsense, don’t-question-me attitude. They were going to have one hell of a night because she had her own attitude and ideas and they were in direct competition with his.

  “Then neither are you.” She arched an eyebrow and didn’t blink.

  “These clients aren’t exactly friendly to people they don’t know.”

  This guy had balls. There was a confirmed price on his head and he still didn’t want her around. He was hiding something, like she’d originally suspected—that was the only logical explanation for his behavior. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he was in danger. He was rattled enough last night to show her that much. So what was his game here? Why take the unnecessary risk?

  “And how do you know they’re friendly with you?” If he wants to die tonight, then he’s going to have to try harder than that. I’ve signed on to keep his ass alive, and I’m the better person at my job.

  “You know your job and I know mine. You have to trust me on this.” He got out and closed the door.

  She gripped her steering wheel and wanted to scream. Trust him? He was supposed to trust her—which he clearly didn’t. Her hard-ass look and threat earlier hadn’t worked. It usually never failed. She was losing her touch. Normal clients would cower to her every request after her alpha play. No, not Eliam. He didn’t even seem fazed. How the hell was she going to get him to do what she wanted?

  She peered out at the old, run-down buildings and scanned the windows before she moved to the top skyline. A glint caught her eye and her entire body froze. Is that a gun? She squinted to confirm the sinking feeling that made her chest pound.

  “Eliam, get down!” She crouched and moved to the passenger side, opening it and sliding out.

  He was steps away from a dirty metal door.

  “Get down!” she yelled again while heading toward him, trying to stay low and grab for her gun.

  Just as she reached him, forcing him to stoop, a shot rang out. The bullet hit the concrete building right above his head.

  “Hurry.” Now they had no choice but to get into the building for better cover.

  Another shot missed to the right of him. This sniper isn’t very good. Eliam opened the door as she stayed behind him, firing her gun once toward the shooter. She closed the thick door tightly behind them. They were safe. For now. We gotta get out of here.

  She holstered her handgun and reached for her phone to call Felix.

  “Wait.” His fingers curled around her wrist, and the skin-on-skin contact took her by surprise.

  “What?” she hissed and pronounced the “t” heavily.

  “It could just be their protection. I didn’t tell them I was coming.” He stood up straight and smoothed down his shirt, vest, and jacket.

  “Who? Eliam, who didn’t you tell? What businessman would shoot you if you show up unannounced?”

  “Obviously I didn’t know that.”

  She slipped her phone back into her coat pocket.

  “How sure are you about this?”

  “A solid ninety percent.”

  She blew out a deep breath. “Fine.” She straightened her own jacket and pushed her curls out of her face.

  “Let’s go.” He walked through another set of doors, these more dainty, and into one giant room.

  The dank smell of the old warehouse didn’t help her mood. In the far corner of the room was a round table with three men sitting and another standing. As they neared she saw their tattoos—the unmistakable artwork Russians loved. Stars, spider webs, and Russian buildings.

  She said a quick prayer it wasn’t the Primack family. They did not play by any rules and had a reputation of being ruthless.

  She started to swagger, swinging her hips a little bit more as they got closer. They’d laugh if Eliam told them she was his bodyguard. She was going to have to be his girlfriend.

  • • •

  Eliam unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat in a chair across from Matvey Primack. Winter stood behind him to his right, sliding her hand around his shoulders and resting it there. What in the hell is she doing?

  “Eliam. Nice to see you again.” Matvey, the head of the Primack family, spoke with a thick Russian accent.

 
“I can tell. Your welcoming crew is quite pleasant.”

  Matvey adjusted the watch on his wrist. “You should’ve called first.”

  “Luckily for me, your man isn’t a good shot.”

  Matvey’s gaze wandered to Winter. Eliam laced his hands in his lap. There was no need for pleasantries. He didn’t want to stay a second longer than necessary.

  “Franklin does not have the authority to make deals on behalf of my company,” he said.

  “The deal is done. It will be honored.” He looked over his shoulder and the guy standing behind him disappeared into a makeshift office buildout.

  “It won’t be.” What am I doing? This guy is probably going to kill me where I sit.

  “Then my driver will try harder next time, huh?”

  Maybe you should hire competent people. So far the Russian had proven he could hire a poor driver and marksman. Eliam’s chances of getting out of the deal unharmed were better than he’d originally thought.

  The man returned with a bottle of Kauffman Vodka and six shot glasses. He set them on the table and filled them all, dispersing one to each person. Every person grabbed their glass and held it up, so he did the same. Winter took the cue.

  “To your health.” Matvey drank and set his glass down in front of him.

  Everyone else followed. The vodka burned as Eliam swallowed it down—it was high-quality stuff, but he was a whiskey man.

  “I don’t have the ability to honor the deal.” His heartbeat kicked up a notch. He was riding a line that could snap at any second.

  The two men sitting on either side of Matvey, Vlad and someone he hadn’t met before, had permanent scowls that didn’t hint at messing around. Eliam was glad they were at least all sitting at the table having a friendly conversation with no pointed guns.

  “All of the routes I believe you require are not currently in use. I don’t know how Franklin planned to swing that, but there is nothing I can do.” Lying was the only way out of this. He didn’t want to go to the police.

  “We will have the contents for the first container in three days.”

  I’m getting sick and tired of explaining myself. “I cannot help you.”